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son poem

sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare
ora che mi sono raffreddato a voi
bello
ho lanciato il mondo
sopra-avevo preparato l'evento
il vecchio ovest, il vecchio tempo
siete svegli?
buona donna
con i suoi capelli che flaying sfrenatamente
questa ciotola d'argento antica di mine

 



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